


A Riddle, Wrapt Inside A Mystery

by Saoirse Mooney (achuislemochroi)



Series: How The Light Gets In [2]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Trauma, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, POV Caspian X, Rating is for Themes, Setting: Multiple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8346982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achuislemochroi/pseuds/Saoirse%20Mooney
Summary: Perhaps, to you, the Just King is destined to stay a riddle, wrapped in a mystery.  For ever.





	1. Riddle

**Author's Note:**

> My Narnia fic is a blend of film and book elements (broadly speaking this means film casting/setting, and book timelines/dates, unless otherwise specified).
> 
> This starts during _Prince Caspian_ , continues through the three (Narnian) years Edmund is away, and follows on into the events of _Dawn Treader_. The title refers to the Winston Churchill quote about Russia: "A riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma."
> 
> Beta-read by glory_jean, all remaining mistakes are my own.

When you first meet Ed, the first thing you notice is his reticence. This diffidence helps keep so much of his character, his true self, hidden from view; you’re never certain how much of what you see is the _real_ Ed, and how much is shaped by circumstance. How much of the man you see before you is a mirage, built from being returned to Narnia after centuries away? Or your needing to deal with what might – if you aren’t all very careful – become a civil war. Or (because to you it’s obvious, even at the beginning, because of Peter’s obnoxious behaviour) how he’s forever stuck in Peter’s shadow?

The two of you clash a little to start, and in consequence it takes longer to get on good terms than you might like. But after he helps you avoid catastrophe by the barest whisker at Aslan’s How you revise your opinion of him. You bond, to an extent, that evening while the two of you get drunker on good Narnian wine than might be wise. Each learns much about the other that night, because you aren’t the only one trying to repress things through, or drown feelings in, alcohol. Including, but not limited to, the truth about what happened when the Witch’s enchanted stranglehold on Narnia broke.

If, during Ed’s telling of this truth, you realise that although he helped break the enchantment on Narnia the Witch broke Ed in return and, because of it, a part of him will never heal – well, even you know better than to mention it. And even though the two of you become much better acquainted with each other, both in body and spirit, that night you get nowhere near the time you’d have liked in which to get to know him.

The pull between you, and even at this stage you’re certain it’s there, means you’d keep him with you if you only had the choice, but since your escape from your uncle’s castle you’ve learnt to accept choice is a rare luxury to kings and you’re no exception to the rule. You and Ed have formed a connection on a deeper level; even with the limited time you’ve had together, it’s so obvious you can’t but acknowledge its existence, but you suspect you must suppress it if you can or else it’ll break you.

He disappears back into history soon after, at Aslan’s command, and you realise it’s possible you’ll never get an answer to satisfy you on the enigma that is the Just King. Perhaps, to you, he’s destined to stay a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, for ever.

Years pass. Little things, here and there, remind you how much you miss the closest you’ve ever had to a family. You do your best not to dwell on them, with varying and often limited success, because remembering hurts and although you want it to be different (and by “different” you mean, when you let yourself be honest, you want the chance to see, and touch, Ed again) you force yourself to admit the odds of seeing any of them again are minuscule. You throw yourself into the preparations for your sea voyage, fulfilling the promise you made on your Coronation Day to find your father’s old friends. And you try to forget.

Except, you find, forgetting is rather more difficult than you’d expect. Nothing you say or do can stop you from drowning in memories of that night, of what you did to Ed, and he did to you; you wake from vivid dreams in the middle of the night shaking with want. Although you choose not to investigate the thought, you suspect this might be the real reason you resist calls for you to find Narnia a Queen. The implications it has for how you feel about Ed frighten you a little. Your instinctive reaction, that you care more about Ed than you worry about any complications, worries you even more; you work to put the idea, and Ed, out of your mind for your own sanity.

Work continues apace on preparing for your sea voyage, and you embark aboard the _Dawn Treader_ almost three years to the day since you last had sight of Ed. For about the first thirty days, nothing much happens. You’re lulled into something of a false sense of security; maybe, you think, fulfilling this promise won’t be as bad as you sometimes fear.

Then, just when you think you might have succeeded in your aim to put Ed out of your mind (because you can go through periods of time when you forget that anyone named Ed Pevensie ever existed in Narnia), the fates throw a spanner in the works. Your darkest dreams are answered and Ed reappears out of nowhere (with Lucy, and a kinsman of theirs – Eustace – who you dislike on sight).

Ed catches your attention after all the excitement is over and everybody is back on board ship, by the simple act of calling your name; for a moment, you don’t react because your mind can’t quite process the reality of this. And, when you do, you walk towards him with eyes for no-one else even though most of your crew stands there watching you doing it. But nobody appears to think anything of it when you throw a blanket around Ed’s shoulders and follow up by drawing him into a half-hug and, even if they did, you’d pay them no heed. From the moment you set eyes on him, it’s as if nobody else exists on that ship for you; the only thing you want to do is touch him again.

It’s been such a long time since you last had the chance to, and you’d been so sure you’d never see him again. The smile you give him is so wide it hurts your mouth, but you can’t stop grinning. When his arm slides up your back, the contact burns but feels so good you shiver.

_At last, at last; you wouldn’t understand how alone I’ve felt here without you._

Less than a month ago, you would have given just about anything for this moment; you don’t give a damn if anybody, other than Ed, notices or cares what’s happening. You’re just happy he’s here.

Adjusting to being in the same reality as Ed again takes such little time it surprises you. It’s a matter of days between his return and the _Dawn Treader_ making landfall in the Lone Islands, but the two of you become almost inseparable during that time and by the time Pug and his cronies enter the picture you’re almost back to where you’d been before. The first clues that whatever exists between you and Ed (you have a good idea what to call it, but flinch from doing so; you cannot yet admit its true nature even to yourself) goes far deeper than is wise show during this time, too.

You suspect much of your impuissant rage toward the Calormen slavers has less to do with their general brutish and inhumane behaviour and more about whom their actions defile. You’ve never been good at concealing any of your emotions, let alone the stronger ones, and you think that it’s almost inevitable everything you’re thinking and feeling is showing on your face.


	2. Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The situation with Pug is resolved, but something is wrong with Ed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've raised the rating on this chapter because I think the general topic, Ed's reaction to his mistreatment by Pug & Co., warrants it. Please note the new tags.
> 
> I'm in the middle of writing a missing scene (which acts as a sort-of sequel) that has Caspian and Ed addressing the latter's reaction to his emotional trauma more directly, which will probably take the same rating.
> 
> (I work on the premise that a rating that's too high is preferable to one that's too low.)

The situation is resolved, to your eventual satisfaction. Although you would perhaps have preferred to throttle Pug, or see him sentenced to a decent spell in irons, you rather suppose Ed would disapprove of either, and he needs to be your focus now. But letting Pug go does nothing to douse your fury.

You are reunited with Ed, and with the others; everybody you care about is free – and, as a cursory examination suggests, at least physically unhurt. Lord Bern offers you the Governor’s Palace while you and the others are here – which will be for days, yet. There is much to do in the Islands to reverse any remaining corruption, and you also have a ship that needs more provisions and minor repairs. But tomorrow is soon enough to begin all that.

Meanwhile Ed, always reserved, has become almost mute. The quieter he gets the more worried you become; this is something, when you drag your attention away from him, you notice is also clear on Lucy’s face. You want to get him alone, to get him to confide in you. You crave the trust, the intimacy; you want him to need you (as you need him). You tell yourself you’d rather Ed unburden himself to you than worry Lucy any more than she already is. You refuse to acknowledge what this tells you about the unnamed _thing_ between the two of you.

After cursing Pug’s existence again in your head, your attention shifts back to Ed and you realise that your itch to touch him, to make a more thorough examination of him and make sure he has no real damage from his experiences at Pug’s hands, has moved beyond a wish to become a need. When someone (almost your whole attention is fixed on Ed by this stage so you neither notice nor care who) suggests an early night you seize on the idea with alacrity.

Again, no one seems to think it odd you and Ed peel off together – although that has much to do with how everybody is tired after their experiences today and “it so happens” that Ed’s quarters are a matter of feet away from yours. You’d made sure of that. To protect him, considering the bad reaction he’s having to what’s happened to him, you need to be as close to him as possible.

Upon closer examination, apart from various superficial bruises and scratches, Ed is all right – from a physical point of view at least. His emotional state would seem to be a different matter, and when Ed shrugs off your first attempt at comfort your concern for him turns into worry. He eventually lets you in past his defences; the ensuing conversation is one more of physicality and emotion than of words. When it’s over, you’re both exhausted. You’ve moved to the bed by this stage and so you pull him down to lie beside you, as you can’t countenance letting him move out of touching distance. He lets you curl your body around his, each of you needing the other’s physical closeness; the two of you drift into sleep.

You wake before sunrise, to find that Ed has moved during the night and now lies with his head buried against your chest and with an arm and leg thrown over yours; it would seem that even in sleep he’s unwilling to be further away from you than necessary. You move your hand into his hair, not wanting to wake him but unable to be this close to him and not be touching. Either Ed’s a light sleeper or your movements jar something, as the next thing you know he is looking up at you with the dazed expression on his face of the just-woken as you grin down at him. You kiss him without even thinking about it and what starts as a soft kiss doesn’t stay that way; before long your kisses are frantic and a repeat of last night is imminent.

And thus a pattern of sorts is established for the rest of the days you spend on the Lone Islands. You become closer still, if that is possible, to where it’s rare for one of you to be found without the other nearby; nothing is said, but the way Lucy smiles at both of you makes you suspect she knows what’s happened. Her perception is uncanny, so you’d be surprised if she hadn’t discovered the truth, but you think you know her well enough to know she’ll keep your secret. That said, the two of you appear to have lost any sense of subtlety you ever possessed. This has the power to hurt you, if you don’t rein it in before you set sail again. What will fly on land, where there’s plenty of space to find privacy when necessary, won’t in the claustrophobic environment of a ship.

So invested are you in Ed, and what he is to you, you find it hard to care about how much more subtle you will need to be when you leave here. Even now you can’t admit what this means for you and, through you, Narnia. But he is yours, as you are his, and all is as it should be; everything and everybody else becomes just so much background noise. Ed is what is important to you now. If labels are necessary at all, there’s time enough to add them later.


End file.
